"Agreed," Spencer said, and wished a little vainly for a broom, the ability to sneak up overhead and not have to worry about getting caught. They didn't have one, though, so he started forward instead, moving as softly and quickly as he could, wincing every time he stepped on a stick or some piece of crackling bramble. Luckily, for a strange definition of that word, the house elves seemed distracted.
They moved quickly and quietly, though, and too soon for Spencer's comfort they were close to the group of elves. The screaming, such as it had been, had stopped, but Spencer could hear tiny whimpers now and then, under the greedy, guzzling sounds of the elves feeding. Bile rose in his throat, and he rocked up onto his toes uselessly, trying to peer over the top of the group. They were crowded around something; Spencer just couldn't see what.
"I think we might have to fight our way through," he said, voice low.